


S.W.A.K.

by celinamarniss



Category: Campaign (Podcast), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Character, Bounty Hunters, Cruise Ships, Found Families, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Pining, bacta has a crush, power couple breha and bail organa, the adventures of pepper tup, the gang meet an actual rebel contact and totally biff it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celinamarniss/pseuds/celinamarniss
Summary: The crew of the Mynock head to Alderaan to meet a contact who may or may not know the location of a Jedi to train Tamlin. Their contact turns out to be a certain Weequay, and he has a proposition for them...
Relationships: Leenik Geelo/Trystan "Tryst" Valentine
Comments: 21
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kate_fire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_fire/gifts).



> _Set an indeterminate number of months post-series. The crew has retrieved the renovated Mynock from Roche, but they still haven’t made their way to Kamino yet, or found a teacher for Tamlin, who’s about six years old at this point._
> 
> I'd like to thank my friend @door, who has excellent taste and convinced me to listen to the Campaign podcast even though I thought it seemed like a lot of episodes to commit to at the time. I would never have written this if she hadn’t recommended Campaign in the first place. 
> 
> This fic is a present. A present for you! A present for the Campaign fandom, because there really isn’t enough Campaign fic in this world. 
> 
> And this fic is primarily a present for my friend kate_fire. When I said I wanted to write a Campaign fic but I didn’t have any plot ideas, my friend kate_fire said _hold my beer_ and handed me about twenty. She helped me work out the entire story and came up with a lot of the jokes. The best jokes. She’s hilarious, guys. Happy birthday, kate_fire.

_Dear Diary,_

_What a day, Diary. What. A. Day._

_After everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours—has it only been a day? It feels like more than a day, like it could have been weeks,_ years _._

_Where to even start? First of all, Diary—_

“Hey, Leenik! Leeeenik!” 

“Leenik, buddy!” Bacta called. “It’s time to go!” 

Leenik looked up and hastily stuffed his diary back into the pocket of his flight suit. “We’re there? Already?” 

“You still writing about that thing that happened _yesterday?”_

“Leave him alone, Tryst,” Lyn said. 

“Now,” Bacta said. “I know we’re all a bit—tired—after our late night yesterday—“ 

“Yeah, Alderaanians, who knew?” Tryst said. 

“—But we all need to be on our guard. We’ve all heard that this contact is a slippery fella.” 

After last night’s... _events,_ they’d had to hide the Mynock in a swamp a few miles from Sanctuary Coast’s Space and Sea Port and take a rented shuttle between the two. They hadn’t been able to get a permit for Tony—Alderaanians were so _particular_ about permits for vornskrs—so he had been left to guard the ship and Nemo, like the good son that he was. 

Tryst had driven, _naturally,_ and Bacta, Lyn, Tamlin and Leenik were packed together in the back. _Had_ been packed together. Tryst, Lyn and Bacta were now standing impatiently by the side of the shuttle and Tamlin was hopping back and forth between the running board and the ground. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Leenik said, patting his long purple and pink ombré wing as he jumped out of the shuttle. 

_“Finally,”_ Tryst said. “Let’s get going.” 

The first thing that struck Leenik about the Sanctuary Coast Port was how clean it was. There was hardly any filth anywhere. Droids wandered through the streets, grime-free, and the few stray animals seemed healthy and well-fed. A pristine row of ships hovered at the dock on the edge of the water, gleaming smugly in the sunlight. 

Frankly, he’d expected something a little rougher. The customs agent that had greeted them when they’d landed on Alderaan seemed concerned about their destination. 

“Sanctuary Coast?" she'd asked him, eyes wide. "Are you sure you want to go there? Someone was stabbed there last year, you know. An offworlder. Tragic.” 

“I can handle myself,” Leenik assured her. 

“If you say so.” She looked down at his ID again. “You said you’re a librarian?” 

“I most definitely am. Business is pleasure!” 

“Oh, well, if you're a librarian, then. Enjoy your stay on Alderaan,” she said, handing back his ID chip. “Please be careful.” 

Despite the customs agent’s warning, Sanctuary Coast didn’t seem all that bad to Leenik. It was clean and the people appeared friendly. 

“Where are we headed?” he asked. 

“Dock 47,” Lyn said, her head bent over the holomap. 

Dock 47 was on the far end of the port, where the moorings were cheaper and the fishing boats and small pleasure craft were just a little less shiny than the craft docked closer to the center of the port. 

The ship they were looking for was the biggest and silverest of the ships on dock 47. It gleamed almost as if it was mocking the other ships around it. From the dock below, Leenik could see people milling around on the wide deck. For a moment, he thought he saw a familiar face, a face he hadn’t seen since Phindar, a face that looked just like the face of the bounty hunter Shockwave. Leenik blinked and Shockwave, if they even _were_ Shockwave, had disappeared. 

An intake droid was scanning tickets on one side of the ramp leading up to the ship, a Weequay in a flashy suit by its side. 

“I think that’s our guy,” Bacta said. 

“The droid?” Leenik asked. 

“No! The guy in the _appalling_ suit,” Bacta said, something like awe in his voice. The stripes on his suit were pink and orange, shot through with lines of silver sequins that sparkled in the sunlight. 

As they approached, the Weequay spread his arms as if he were demonstrating the size of the Ronto he’d shot. “Friends and valued customers! Welcome to the LRV BOAT: Local Romantic Ventures: Bail Organa Alderaanian Tours. Welcome, welcome.” 

“The...Lurve Boat?” Bacta asked. 

“The Lurve Boat! The finest honeymoon cruise in Alderaan! If I do say so myself, which of course I do. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hondo Ohnaka, proprietor of this fine romantic establishment.” 

“Leenik Geelo,” Leenik said. “Of the Mynock.” He could hear Bacta grinding his teeth behind him. 

“Good to meet you, Leenik Geelo of the Mynock. And your partners? Spouses? Significant others?” His grin widened as his gaze swept over Tryst and Bacta; it faltered as it landed on Lyn and Tamlin, though he was only taken aback for a moment. “Adorable adopted children?” 

Tamlin scowled at the word _adorable._

“You don’t need to know our names,” Tryst said cooly. 

Hondo clapped his hands together. “A secret assignation! Not to worry, the LRV BOAT respects the privacy of all its honeymooners, so long as they pay in credits, of course.” 

“Oh,” Bacta said. “Sorry. We’re not customers.” 

“Ah! You must be the new servers! I must say I am impressed with how quickly your company has supplied replacements!” 

“Nope,” Tryst said. “Not the new servers either.” 

Hondo lowered his arms, confusion furrowing his leathery brow. 

“A mutual friend—” Bacta began. 

“The Kaiburr Crystals,” Leenik supplied helpfully. 

Bacta looked like he didn’t appreciate Leenik’s help _at all._ “A _friend_ told us you had some information that you would be willing to sell us. About the location of _another_ friend—”

“A Jedi,” Leenik clarified for him. “Or someone _like_ a Jedi. You know. Magic powers, that sort of thing. They told us you might know someone like that, or someone who knows someone.” 

He could have gone on, but Bacta stopped grinding his teeth long enough to cut him off. “The Kaiburr Crystals told us they’d spoken to you—” 

“Say no more, my friend,” Hondo said. “I remember the conversation exactly. A Jedi, eh? Jedi are so slippery, don’t you agree? Lucky for you, I may know the location of one such individual meeting your requirements, and I would be delighted to pass on a little information about this _talented_ friend of mine. Delighted! But. Such information does not come without a cost.” 

_“Here_ we go,” Tryst muttered. 

“Not a high price, mind you, since we are all such good friends already. As you may recall, I am having some, shall we say, staffing issues. A minor labor dispute. Not worth mentioning. Union disputes are so messy, don’t you agree? And what’s few severed limbs between friends? So I find myself just a little short-handed today, on the very day of our inaugural launch!” 

Bacta and Lyn exchanged a look. 

“The LRV BOAT only needs a _little_ additional help for our very first cruise across the bay. You cover for our missing—but not necessarily missed—staff on this cruise, and at the end of the day, I give you the contact information of that friend you need. Everyone profits!” 

Bacta had that familiar dubious look on his face. “I don’t know…” 

“All you will need to do is serve drinks, for half a day, at most—”

“Hang on a second.” Tryst raised a hand. “Will you be supplying us with uniforms?” 

“Uniforms?” 

“Yeah, you know, server suits—with the little black jackets? Uniforms.” 

“Of course you will have uniforms. All of my employees are supplied with quality uniforms, made by the best Alderaanian tailors. Only the finest for Hondo Ohnaka’s Local Romantic Ventures: Bail Organa Alderaanian Tours.”

“Okay,” Tryst said. “That sounds like a reasonable offer—”

“If you can give us a moment, Mr. Ohnaka,” Bacta cut him off. “We need to discuss your offer— _as a team_ —before we make any decisions.” 

“Naturally, naturally! Take your time—but remember, we cast off in a few short hours.” 

Bacta led the group far enough down the dock that Hondo couldn’t overhear. “I don’t think we can trust that guy,” he began. 

_“That_ guy?” Tryst said. “Of course we can’t trust that guy. He’s a walking shell game.”

He raised a finger. “But—I think there are compelling reasons for us to take the trade he’s offering. Number one—We need those uniforms. The set we have back at the Mynock for debriefings are a disgrace. Number two: what if his information is good? It's possible. Can we pass it up for Tamlin’s sake? Or for Leenik’s sake? We need a Jedi more than ever now. Number three: I don’t have a third point, but if you’ll give me a minute, I’ll think of something.” 

“He has a point,” Lyn said. “I say we do it.”

Leenik agreed, though Bacta still had his stubborn face on. 

“Come on, being waiters can't be as bad as what we had to wear yesterday,” Tryst said. “It won’t kill you to serve a few drinks for the afternoon.” 

“I suppose so…” Bacta said grudgingly. 

“Great!” Tryst clapped his hands together. “This is going to be a breeze.” 

“What about Tamlin?” Lyn asked. Everyone looked over at Tamlin, who gave them all his best innocent _don’t mind me, I’m just an adorable child_ look. It was pretty good. He had a lot of practice. 

“Would you like to go back to the Mynock?” Bacta asked him. 

“No!” Tamlin said. 

“Are you sure that a honeymoon cruise is the most appropriate place for Tamlin?” Lyn asked, looking at Bacta. 

“It’s just a quick cruise around the lake on Alderaan,” Tryst said. “With a bunch of people too gaga to pay much attention to anything, let alone a kid. He can’t get in trouble.” 

“I might be a kid, but Pepper Tup isn’t!” Tamlin interjected. “He’s eighteen!” 

“He does make an impeccable argument,” Tryst said. 

“He does _not,”_ Bacta said. 

“Aww, Uncle Bacta, I’ll be fine.” 

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.” Tryst said. “He can help carry drinks, it’ll be adorable.” 

“See? I can help!” 

“Alright,” Bacta said. “As long as you promise to be careful and not to argue if things get sticky and one of us decides to send you back to the Mynock.” 

“Okay!” 

Bacta knelt down to make sure that Tamlin's emergency comm was still working, reminding him that if anything went wrong, he was to contact the Mynock immediately. Everything settled, they told Hondo about their decision to agree to his deal. 

“Excellent, excellent! I knew we could all come to a profitable arrangement! Profitable for you, certainly! But more importantly, profitable for me. Now, let me show you to your uniforms.” 

Hondo led them onto the ship, past the ticketing droid and the groups of honeymooners bunched along the deck. There were a lot more passengers than Leenik had expected—considering the fact that it was clear that Hondo wasn’t _entirely_ on the up and up—though most of them looked like off-worlders. Tourists. 

“Is everyone here a newlywed?” Tryst asked Hondo. 

“Oh no, here at the Lurve Boat we celebrate all the seasons and flavors of Romance! Newlyweds, triads, multi-partnerships, eight beings fused into one body—here on the Lurve boat we welcome all kinds! Does their not money all spend the same? Indeed, we offer special packages to couples who need to get away from their families, and one of our most popular packages is for those looking to renew their vows on a Bail Organa Alderaanian Tour—the most romantic tour on Alderaan!” 

“Did Bail Organa really allow you to use his name for this cruise?” Bacta asked. 

“An interesting question! Organa and I are old friends—and by old friends, I mean that I used to do things his government did not approve of and he used to get cross at me. But that is all in the past. Hondo Ohnaka is a forgiving man who does not hold grudges.”

He winked at Tamlin, shiny smile still plastered on his face. 

“Did I choose to use his name in order to mislead certain parties about the nature of our connection? Well, with profit on the line, how could I resist? There are so many people who would happily pull strings to help anyone who is almost certainly a friend of the esteemed Senator Bail Organa."

“Ah,” Bacta said. 

“Of course, I also knew that a man like Organa would not be, shall we say... _uninterested_ in a local company that has chosen to take his name in order to honor his career. So I invited him to give his blessing to the inaugural launch this afternoon!” 

“And do you really think that the Organas are going to show?” Tryst asked. 

“Do I know for a certainty? No. But, my friends, I always have hope! ...And a friend in Aldera who keeps an eye on the Organa’s schedule of public appearances.” 

Hondo led them deeper into the ship until they came to a door at the end of a long hallway. A label in Aurebesh reading “staff” had been pasted over a “storage” sign. Half of the room was still in use as a storage space, filled with crates of Alderaanian wine, “reduced price!” labels plastered on the sides. A battered couch had been pushed up against a wall on the other side of the room, next to a long clothing rack hung with server’s uniforms. There was a changing screen, a small conservator, a weapons locker, and a Sullustan in uniform reading a datapad on one end of the couch, who ignored them the entire time. 

“Fresher down the hall,” Hondo said. “Meet me back at the main deck in twenty minutes with a few bottles of wine to meet our very special guests.” 

Ignoring the changing screen, Tryst began to strip out of his clothes. Lyn made the usual tart comment before slipping behind the screen, as if they didn’t see Tryst naked _every_ morning on the Mynock, whether they wanted to or not. Leenik distracted himself by selecting his own uniform from the rack. The Sullustan didn’t look up from his datapad. 

The uniforms were dark blue with white piping; plain, but classy looking, which Leenik was beginning to think was an Alderaanian thing. At least they wouldn’t clash with his wig. He found a pair of slacks that fit him and a white shirt to go under the jacket. The uniforms were clean, and they looked new, though Leenik found a tag in his jacket that said “Royal Alderaanian Luxury Cruises,” and Lyn had to remove a nametag on hers that read “Bort.” After dressing in one of the uniforms himself, Bacta pulled a jacket off the rack that had been tailored to fit a Chandra-Fan and helped Tamlin put it on. It _was_ adorable. 

“Mmm, yes.” Tryst said, adjusting his jacket. “This will do quite nicely.” It fastened along the side, emphasizing his waist and broadening his shoulders. Leenik felt his face go hot and antennae tingle and he looked away. 

There was a weaponry locker for their heavy blasters as well, with enough room for Leenik to stash his vibrosword. It really didn’t work with the server’s uniform, after all. Bacta hadn’t allowed him to carry the late Inquisitor Sadet’s lightsaber on Alderaan. Bacta and Tryst stashed their personal blasters as well. 

“I think Tamlin and I should stick together,” Lyn said. “We haven’t spent much time together lately, have we, Tamlin? We’ll check out the pool level.” 

“Perfect,” Tryst said, passing a tray to Leenik. “Bacta and Leenik and I will keep an eye on Hondo.” 

“I got it,” Leenik snapped as Tryst tried to arrange the glasses on his tray, as if Leenik didn’t know _anything_ about working as wait staff. 

He just barely caught a strange look on Tryst’s face as he turned away, an expression that looked...not hurt, but _concerned._ Leenik didn’t like that expression. It had vanished by the time Tryst had turned back, a row of glasses arranged perfectly on his tray. He’d put his holster belt back on over the suit of his uniform, a bottle of wine tucked in the pockets on either side of his hips. 

“Alright team, we ready?” 

Bacta, Tryst, and Leenik trooped back up to the top deck, more or less managing not to spill any wine on the way up. Hondo was waiting at the deck rail, sequins gleaming in the sun. 

The Organas arrived with less fanfare than Leenik expected. They pulled up in a large, classy speeder with a small group of bodyguards, a second security detail following in a second, nondescript speeder. The second security detail remained on the dock, and the bodyguards followed at a discreet distance as the Organas walked up the ramp of the Lurve Boat. The queen and her husband had brought their daughter, who skipped alongside her father a few steps behind the queen. 

Queen Breha Organa wore long split-skirt pants and an embroidered bolero-cut jacket over a plain cream blouse. The fabric looked expensive, even though the design was simple, and dyed rich shades of blue. Her pulmonary prosthetics glowed faintly through her blouse. The senator wore a well-tailored suit in the Alderaanian style. Their daughter was dressed in the same shades of blue as her mother, like a smaller version of the queen, which Leenik had to admit was pretty cute. Neither of them wore crowns, and there was a distinct lack of royal finery. 

Leenik was kind of disappointed. 

Hondo was _extremely_ disappointed. “Is that all?” Leenik heard him mutter to himself. “Organa, you can do better.” 

He plastered on a bright smile and spread his arms, sequins sparkling, as he met the Organas at the head of the ramp. “Welcome, your majesties, welcome to the LRV BOAT! Captain Hondo Ohnaka’s Local Romantic Ventures: Bail Organa Alderaanian Tours! May I offer you my deepest gratitude for honoring us with your presence?” 

“Hondo,” Bail Organa said flatly. 

The Queen managed to look a little more graceful about the entire matter. “Captain Ohnaka. Thank you for your invitation.” 

“It is such an honor and a _privilege_ to have you here to bless our inaugural voyage. I must confess when I sent you your invitation, I had worries—totally unfounded, of course—that you might not have time in your busy schedule to join our humble enterprise.” 

“When I saw that you had named the entire cruise line after me, how could I refuse?” Bail said. 

“Yes, how could you?” Hondo replied. Everyone was smiling with an awful lot of teeth. “We actually meant to cast off a week ago, but we felt that short delay was a small price—the smallest price—to pay in order to have the Queen herself here on our first-day trip.” 

“They do know that they were invited here as a publicity stunt to help Hondo promote the Lurve Boat?” Bacta asked under his breath. 

“Yeaaaah,” Tryst said. “They know.” 

A horn sounded and the ramp retracted back into the boat’s side. The deck was suddenly crowded with honeymooners gathering to watch the ship ease away from the dock. Still chattering on, Hondo had somehow maneuvered the Royal family to the elevated bow of the ship, where everyone could see them. The Organas let him. Their bodyguards, while staying at a comfortable distance, were never out of sight, and when Leenik joined the other passengers waving at the docks shrinking in their wake, he saw a small silver security ship pull alongside the Lurve Boat. Eventually, the crowd dispersed as soon as the shore vanished from sight and it was clear that the Organas weren’t going to do anything interesting. 

“Your majesties,” Hondo said. “May I offer you an exclusive tour of our ship?” 

“Lead on,” Bail said, that same insincere smile still fixed on his face. 

The Organas, in turn, did not seem particularly impressed with the Lurve Boat. They _hmmed_ and smiled politely at Hondo’s effusive descriptions of the gaming deck, the pools and spas, the restaurants. Their daughter pointed at things and said “what’s that?” a lot. Her mother replied in a calm, clear voice, “that’s a Mon Calamari spa. That’s considered a delicacy in his culture. That’s a hat. That’s a Trandoshan, love, don’t point at her. It’s considered rude in her culture.” 

It probably wasn’t strictly _necessary_ for Bacta, Tryst and Leenik to shadow the tour Hondo was giving the Royal family—the Organas hadn’t even glanced at the wine—but Hondo hadn’t said that they _couldn’t_ come along, and that was a good as an invitation in Mynock crew’s books. 

The upper decks of the Lurve Boat were reserved for lounging and sight-seeing honeymooners, with a series of pools in the center of the deck. A central pool was surrounded by a ring of small personal pools, just large enough for two or three people to share, which many couples were doing. The large pool in the center of the floor was half-drained and had a murky sheen to it. A Quarren couple was splashing around in the shallows, but everyone else kept a wary distance. 

“Just between us, the Grand Pool has...sprung a leak. But not to worry, I have moved the Mon Calamari passengers to the floor below. One man’s flood is another man’s balmy suite, as my sweet mother might say—right before she charged them double.” 

The next two floors they toured were dedicated to entertainment and recreation—gyms for sportier couples to play athletic games, and lounges for socializing and watching holos. A significant section of the floor had been converted into a casino. This time of day, only a few people were lingering around the pazaak table and the jubilee wheel, attended on by blue-uniformed croupiers. 

“Did you see the Ewok playing hintaro?” Tryst asked Bacta. “I thought he looked like Tuam.” 

“No way,” Bacta said. “Tuam wouldn’t be traveling on a cut-rate Alderaanian Honeymoon tour.” 

“Well, it could have been a Chandra-Fan.” 

“Tryst,” Bacta sighed. “We gotta work on your species identification skills.” 

Every single level had at least one bar, serving colorful drinks to any passengers interested in imbibing that early in the day. Each bar had a theme, half-heartedly represented by wilting flimsiplast decorations. Cocktails had a strange habit of miraculously appearing on the edge of Tryst’s serving tray every time they passed to close to one of the open bars. 

On the next level—“This, your Majesties, is our restaurant level. Serving the finest in galactic aphrodisiacs! We have pickled love tree roots from the moons of Carida, Woolamander toes in favoian sauce, Zeltron spiced wine, and even Bakuran namana nectar from the very edges of civilized space.” 

It seemed to Leenik like every conceivable surface on the ship was covered with couples. Or, in some cases, threesomes or foursomes. 

Couples cuddling. Couples laughing. Couples smooching. 

Leenik felt as though there was a stone in his stomach, and every time he saw a pair of honeymooners lean in for a kiss, it just got heavier. He was starting to wish _he’d_ gone back to the Mynock. Did everyone have to be so...handsy? He _really_ didn’t need to see whatever that human couple was doing over in the corner.

Tryst, on the other hand, only seemed to perk up the further they got into the ship. “Bone _city_ ,” he said like it was some sort of personal achievement. 

“Gross,” Leenik said. 

“Tryst,” Bacta said. “These people are here to celebrate their love, not looking for a hook-up.” 

“Sure, most of them, but there’s _got_ to be some couples that are looking to spice up the ol’ love life with a little Tryst Valentine, Sex Criminal.” 

“That never sounds like you think it does in your head,” Bacta sighed. 

“And now—” Hondo swept his arms in another big gesture. “The Grand Ballroom!” 

The wide door swooshed aside. The curving walls of the Grand Ballroom were covered in heavy curtains in a bright orange shade, and the floor was the deep, murky orange of a Rodian sunset. 

“Decorated in the color of love,” Hondo said, winking at Breha. 

“On what planet?” Leenik muttered. He didn’t get an answer. 

“What would a what would a Romantic Venture be,” Hondo continued. “Without a wedding chapel? Couples can renew their vows as a way to publicly profess their love—an experience they will never forget.” 

He waved toward a raised dais on the far side of the ballroom. A structure that looked like an arched bower constructed of orange flowers stood in the middle of the dais. The petals were a pale tangerine, clashing with the brighter marigold of the curtains. Rows of chairs were lined up in front of the dais, and at least half were occupied by groups of honeymooners. A few heads turned expectantly in their direction. 

One of those heads, seated in the back row nearest the door, sported a pair of short, tattooed lekku. Beside her, Tamlin squirmed around in his seat so that he was kneeling up on the chair, waving over the back at them. 

“What are all those people here for, mama?” the princess asked. 

“An excellent question, my young friend!” Hondo said. “They have gathered here in the hopes of witnessing an exclusive renewal ceremony—a ceremony for the beloved Queen and her famous senator husband. I hope they will not be disappointed.” 

Breha and Bail exchanged a look, Bail’s eyebrow raised and Breha’s mouth flattening into a thin line. 

“That’s a lot of people for an exclusive ceremony,” Bacta muttered. “Hondo must have arranged for an announcement to be broadcast all over the ship while we were in the lift between floors.” 

“Gotta hand it to him,” Tryst said. “He’s got style.” 

Bail’s smile and his patience appeared to be wearing thin but he said, “Of course, Hondo, we’d be happy to take part in this—performance.” 

“Very good, very good! I, Hondo Ohnaka, will of course be presiding. As soon as I change into the appropriate robes.” 

Leenik gasped. “Quick change?” 

He rushed to help Hondo behind the changing screen, out of his loud suit jacket, and into an elaborate robe. The robe was made of heavy, voluminous velvet, with flowing sleeves and a high collar. A script in a language Leenik couldn't decipher was embroidered onto the fabric, running in lines from the robe's shoulders to the floor. Love poems, maybe? Tiny glass beads that caught the light were sewn along the edges of the sleeves and the hem that brushed the floor. It was, of course, orange. 

“No time to do any make-up,” Leenik sighed as he straightened the line of the robe. 

“These handsome features need no embellishment,” Hondo scoffed. 

“A little eyeliner never hurt anyone,” Leenik muttered. 

As soon as he’d finished primping the robes, Hondo swept out from behind the screen and strutted to the center of the stage. 

“Gentlebeings! Welcome! Welcome to the first renewal of vows aboard Hondo Ohnaka’s Local Romantic Ventures: Bail Organa Alderaanian Tours!” 

“The lighting in here does _not_ do those robes any favors,” Leenik said as he joined Tryst and Bacta at the side of the stage. Tryst had replaced the wine glasses on their trays with a tasteful arrangement of flowers. He’d somehow managed to make the orange blossoms look almost elegant. Breha and Bail had taken their places on the other side of the stage. Breha was crouched down, talking quietly to her daughter. 

“I, Captain Hondo Ohnaka, invested in the power of Aldreanian law—more or less—will be renewing and resealing the marriage vows of one very special couple today.” 

Bail took Breha’s hand and she led the way to the center of the stage. Hondo arranged them in front of him, facing each other, their hands clasped together. 

“Why are they going through with this?” Leenik asked. “They clearly think this is all a tacky con. Which it is.” 

“Because they’re lovely people and they love each other,” Tryst said. 

“We have gathered here together to celebrate the love of Breha and Bail Organa,” Hondo said. “A long and beautiful partnership, celebrated by all of Alderaan’s citizens. Today we have the privilege of watching them recommit to their vows.”

There were murmurs of excitement amount the passengers gathered in the audience. 

“It is traditional for the couple to first say a few words on the significance of their relationship. For instance, how you met—or the moment you fell in love.” Hondo made a deep, extravagant bow. “Your Majesty?” 

Breha nodded regally to Hondo before facing Bail again. Her expression softened as she met his eyes. 

“Bail Organa,” she said. “Comes from one of the oldest and most respected families on Alderaan. I grew up memorizing the names of all the members of the Elder Houses, _especially_ the eligible ones.” She winked coyly at the audience, eliciting sympathetic laughter. “I had always heard that Bail was kind, steadfast, and handsome. _All_ true, of course.” The audience was eating out of her hand. “We met several times at various court functions, but I was always more interested in speaking Irek Antilles or Asa Rieekan. So tall and handsome!” 

_“Very_ handsome,” Bail leaned toward the audience, his tone conspiratorial. “My wife has excellent taste, if I do say so myself.” 

“I never took much notice of you until that day at the ranch in Austarius,” she continued. Bail beamed at her as she spoke. “When you stood up on that rail—after you’d been told _not_ to—and fell right into that nerf pen!” 

Bail winced dramatically. “Right into the mud and slop. The things we do when we’re young, just to impress a pretty girl—” 

“Your _girlfriend_ at the time,” Breha said mockingly. “Was if I recall, Evanna Rieekan.” 

“We all make mistakes, my dove.” 

“And not your last that day!” Breha looked as if she were on the verge of laughter. They both knew exactly when to feed each other the next punchline; this was a story they’d told many times before. 

“You stood up, then you threw out your arm—” Breha mimicked the gesture, sweeping an arm wide. “To try and get out of that pen before the lead nerf stampeded over you—and you splattered mud all over my dress! My new dress from Coruscant!” 

Bail’s chuckle was as warm as a cup of hot chocolate on a frosty evening. “You gave me quite the tongue-lashing. I'll never forget it. I said to myself, Bail, this is the one. The girl you’ve been looking for.” 

An audible sigh swept through the ballroom. 

“Well, I didn’t think much of you then," Breha said, "covered in mud and nerf spit. Or the next time I saw you and you stepped on my dress from Chandrilla at the winter ball!” 

Bail ducked his head, shaking it. 

“And then you asked me to dance.” Breha’s expression grew soft. “I love watching you dance.” 

“I am nothing to you, my dove,” Bail murmured. Louder, for the audience to hear, he said, “it took me a while to win her over. Years!” He raised a hand as if swearing an oath. “But finally, she decided to make me the luckiest—and the happiest—man in the galaxy.” 

The audience _awwwed,_ enchanted. 

“Now it is time for my favorite moment in the ceremony,” Hondo said, “—though there are so many beautiful moments, how can I choose just one? _The_ moment when the beloved offspring of the happy couple—whether legitimate, illegitimate, or adopted—says a few words to their soon to be newly re-wed parents.” 

Breha made a half-turn away from Bail. “Lelila? It’s your turn now. We talked about this part.” 

When the princess didn’t appear, Bail called, “Leia, darling, it’s your cue.” 

No princess. 

“Where is she?” Bail asked. 

Tryst and Leenik looked behind them. No princess. Bacta looked behind the changing screen and the arch of flowers. “She’s not there, Sir,” he told Bail.

The Organa bodyguards materialized from wherever they had been lurking and began to search the audience. 

Breha scanned the room, concern creasing her brow. “Leia?” she called. “Where are you?” 

There was no response except for the sound of the passengers, who began to shift in the seats and whisper among themselves, heads twisting around to spot the missing princess. Most of them looked as though they thought this was the next act of the performance they’d been watching. 

No one found a little girl in blue. It was as if she had vanished from the room. 

“Hondo Ohnaka,” Bail Organa thundered. _“Where is my daughter?”_


	2. Chapter 2

Pepper Tup knew that he had one advantage over all other detectives.

 _Welllll,_ Tamlin thought, maybe not over an _Ewok_ detective. But he’d never met an Ewok detective before, so he felt confident that it was still true. The advantage was this: he was smaller than other detectives, and could fit into places that most detectives couldn’t go. 

_A Wookie detective could never fit back here,_ he thought as he crept behind the marigold curtains that hung along the length of the ballroom walls, careful not to let a single ripple in the fabric show on the other side. 

It had been easy to shake Uncle Lyn. Halfway through the ceremony, a worried-looking Twi’lek in a blue staff uniform had come up to her, and after a whispered conversation, they had ducked out of the ballroom. She'd promised that she would be right back, and as soon as she was gone, Tamlin went exploring. 

Through the heavy curtains, he could hear the sound of Hondo’s voice, loud and pompous, rising and falling at the front of the ballroom. “So romantic,” he heard a nearby Mon Calamari say nearby. 

He was just easing past the Mon Calamari guests when his foot caught on something lying on the ground and he pitched forward onto the ground, his hands smacking against the floor as he caught himself. 

“Ow!” He’d stubbed his toe, too, and his hands stung from where they’d hit the floor. 

“What was that?” 

Tamlin froze. 

“Did you hear that?” 

“Shh—I’m trying to hear what the queen is saying,” his partner said. “She has such a lovely voice.” 

After a few moments, Tamlin decided it was safe to move. The object he’d tripped on was a heavy screwdriver, and he found a wrench and a flat metal plate on the floor in front of him. He crawled over to examine the plate. It looked like the cover to a vent or crawlspace, and sure enough, there was a hole in the wall where the plate had been. 

Tamlin stuck his head into the hole. A dark tunnel stretched the length of the ballroom in either direction. It was narrow, but not too narrow for a small—but definitely eighteen-year-old—detective. Dim, motions-senor emergency lights blinked on when he crawled into the narrow tunnel. 

There was more than enough room for him to stand and walk toward the far end of the ballroom. He could even swing his arms as he walked. Tamlin turned the corner where the tunnel curved around the edge of the ballroom and stopped short with a gasp. There was a girl standing in the tunnel in front of him, looking down the passageway ahead of her. 

“A dame!” Tamlin whispered to himself. 

The girl jumped at the sound of his voice and turned around. “What are you doing in here?” she asked, her tone accusatory. 

“Just investigating,” Tamlin said. “I’m a detective,” he explained. He wasn’t sure how much he should say. Dames could be trouble. 

The girl looked him up and down with an expression of deep skepticism. “I don’t think kids are allowed in here,” she said. 

“I’m not a kid,” he informed her. “I’m Pepper Tup. I’m eighteen.” 

Tamlin had watched holos about kids his age, and he didn’t think she was any older than him. She was human, and about the same size he was, with pale skin that was a lot pinker than his chalky white complexion. Her brown hair was braided into two loops that hung down behind her ears. Her whole outfit was blue—dark blue boots and pants, a shirt and jacket in shades of blue with fancy embroidery along the edges. 

Tamlin wished he had a jacket like that. He noticed her eyeing his bright pink nail polish and he wordlessly lifted his hands. 

“Is that your real name?” she asked after she’d examined his nails. 

“Welllll," Tamlin drew out the word the same way his Uncle Tryst would. "Not really. It’s only my name when I’m being a detective. When I’m Pepper Tup I can do lots of things! Pepper Tup can solve crimes and catch criminals—and make brave and heroic decisions!” 

“Can I have a detective name, too?” 

Tamlin hesitated, but he couldn’t think of a good reason why not. “...Sure.” 

“I’ll be…” The little girl paused a minute, chewing her lip. “Paprika Tup!” 

“But that’s my name!” Tamlin gasped, shocked at her audacity. 

“Paprika Tup can fly a ship and doesn’t have to memorize the Twelve Books of Etiquette.” Tamlin didn’t know what the Twelve Books of Etiquette were, but they didn’t sound as fun as Uncle Leenik’s books.

“Paprika Tup was adopted,” she added. 

“I was adopted too,” Tamlin said. “Sort of. My mom died and I live with my uncles.” 

Her face lit up and she grabbed his hand. “That’s why we have the same name! We’re secretly brother and sister, but after our parents were killed by an evil wizard, we were separated and grew up with different families. Fate brought us back together to solve a case!” She beamed at him. “So. What are we investigating?” 

Tamlin blinked. He’d be so caught up in the story that he’d forgotten his own mission. Plus, it seemed really….right somehow. “My uncles think that Captain Hondo is up to no good, and I’m trying to find the proof.” 

“The Weequay in the suit?” She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, your uncles are right about that. My mama doesn’t like him at all. Where do we start?” 

“Well,” Tamlin said, considering the tunnel in front of them. “One of these passageways has got to lead to his cabin.” 

“Oh! I think I know where it is. We took a tour.” 

* * *

Bacta knew that if someone didn’t take charge quickly, things were going to escalate and people were going to do things they regretted. There was no time to waste. He approached the angry knot of people in the center of the stage. Breha was whispering furiously at Hondo, who had his palms raised as if in defense, though for once, he didn’t make any attempt to get a word in edgewise. 

“Sir? Madame? We should organize a search party to find the princess.” Bail, Breha, Hondo, and all of the Organa bodyguards turned toward him. “You have a security detail patrolling the water, right? So we know she’s still on the boat. Probably just wandered off. We just need to find her before we get back to the dock this evening.” 

He knew that parents in the Queen and Senator’s positions would be concerned about kidnapping, and rightfully so, but jumping to conclusions would just work everyone up. His first priority was to calm everyone down enough to make a sensible plan. 

“I’ll organize the rest of the staff here—” _(Tryst and Leenik,_ he didn’t say) “And we’ll divide up the search parties and assign a ship floor to each party. We’re going to find her.” 

Breha nodded and gestured to her security team. “Kesnos and Corrino will join the search party. Methis and I will question the staff. Surely someone must have seen something.” 

She didn’t question the fact that he’d taken control of the situation, or belittle him, or demand that he have a clipboard in hand before opened his mouth. It was so nice!

“Captain Ohnaka.” The queen turned a smile on the Weequay so cold that it could have frozen a hardened clone trooper like the surface of an ice moon. “Alonso will stay with you in the ballroom until we return, in case Leia comes back here on her own.” 

“Naturally, if I can only be of service to your majesties—”

“Thank you.” She turned away from Hondo and regally gestured to Bacta to continue. Breha was a queen, there was no doubt about that. He admired how efficiently she had assessed the situation and committed her own resources to the search; putting a guard on Hondo hadn’t immediately occurred to him but was probably a necessity, Bacta had to admit. 

“Right,” he said. “Give me a minute to talk to the rest of the staff.” 

Leaving Breha and Bail to consult with their bodyguards, Bacta stepped to the side where Tryst and Leenik stood, sipping wine and watching everything unfold like it was entertainment holo. 

“Are we really helping to find some kid?” Tryst asked. 

_“Yes,_ Tryst,” Bacta said. “A child is missing!” 

“Children go missing all the time,” Leenik said flippantly. 

Bacta missed dealing with mature, cooperative, competent _adults_ already. “What if it were Tony who went missing?” Bacta asked him. 

“How _dare_ you.” 

“See? It matters to someone. It matters to the Organas. They’re important people, and there are people out there that might want to kidnap or harm their daughter.” 

“Important people,” Tryst mused. “Like _reward_ important?” 

“It doesn’t matter, Tryst. We’re helping anyway.” 

“I’m just saying, I might look a little harder if I knew I got a reward.” 

Before Bacta managed to get any further in what he suspected would be an _infuriating_ argument with Tryst, Bail Organa approached. 

“I’d like to join the search party as well.” 

“Ah, um. Of course, Sir.”

The ship was large enough (and presumably safe enough) that he could assign each person their own floor to search, but Bacta wasn’t crazy about letting Leenik (or Tryst, for that matter) wander around unsupervised. He couldn’t risk pairing either of them with Bail or the bodyguards ( _who knew_ what either of them might blab on a ship where drinks were flowing like water). 

In the end, he assigned the bodyguards to the lower crew levels, and gave Tryst and Leenik the gaming and restaurant floors. He and Bail would search the upper levels. 

“Great. What are you going to do about them?” Tryst pointed over his shoulder. 

The passengers who had gathered to watch the ceremony had remained seated, leaning forward in their seats to catch the flurry of hushed arguments and orders being delivered onstage. 

_Kark._ “You can all disperse!” Bacta announced to the audience. “Go back to your rooms—”

“Wait!” Hondo raised his arms. “We can do better than that,” he murmured under his breath. 

To the crowd, he said, “My friends and customers and well-tipping sentient beings of all species, do not worry! Our extremely expensive cast is just preparing the next act of the premiere performance of _The Missing Princess._ All of those who wish to see the romantic heart to heart between the couple and emotionally moving reunion—and trust me, you do not want to miss it—in which the Royal family is happily reunited, return please return in two hours. In the meantime, drinks are available at any of our bars on Level C! Allow me to introduce our new invisible serving droids! If they do not bring you your drink by the snap of your fingers,” he snapped his fingers twice, “you are welcome to get it yourselves for a small extra fee!” 

The crowd began to disperse. The Organa security team strode off on their assigned missions. Tryst and Leenik ambled off in the other direction. One of the bodyguards escorted the queen toward the crew quarters, such as they were. Hondo seemed at a loss at first, but soon began chatting up the bodyguard assigned to watch him. 

“Let’s head to level B, and then we can work our way up,” Bacta told Bail. 

“I’ll follow your lead,” the Senator agreed.

They hadn’t gone ten paces when they were stopped by a young Alderaanian couple who had watched the mock renewal ceremony. 

“That was such a lovely performance,” the young woman gushed. “I really believed that you were the Queen’s consort.” 

Bail looked uncertain. “Ah, thank you.” 

“Not as good as your turn in _Crisis on Christophsis,_ of course.” 

“A classic,” her wife sighed. “Though my favorite is _Tragedy at Okomono.”_

“She’s the morbid one,” the other woman said teasingly. _“My_ favorite is _Summers in Aldera, Winters Without You.”_

“That’s just because you have a crush on Liana Antilles.” 

“She’s the best Breha,” her wife said defensively. 

“Not that the actress today didn’t do a good job,” the other woman told Bail, her tone conciliatory. “We didn’t recognize her. Is she new?” 

“Celly Aquilae,” Bail said. “Just graduated from the Academy.” 

“Will she be in your next holo?” 

“Yes,” Bacta said, stepping forward. “The um, _Mission on Mon Cal._ Now, if you’ll excuse us, ladies, my client has to—” 

“Oh, of course, don’t let us keep you.” 

“It was a pleasure,” Bail said, clasping each of their hands in turn. 

“Nicely done, sir,” Bacta said as soon as they were out of earshot. “Quick thinking.” 

“You as well. I didn’t catch your name…” 

“Bacta,” Bacta said, realizing a moment too late that he’d just pulled a Leenik. _Kriff._ There was just something about the senator that threw him off his guard. 

“Bacta… that sounds like a clone name." As if Bacta's face didn’t give him away already. “If it isn’t too personal, may I ask if you served in the clone army?” 

Organa, for all his propriety, had to know the answer to _that._

“I’d rather not talk about it, sir.” 

“I knew some troopers during the war,” Bail said cautiously. “Good men.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

Organa had come out of the conflict suspiciously unscathed. Bacta wracked his brains, trying to remember any chatter about the senator during the war, but he couldn’t recall if he’d heard how Organa had responded to Order 66. He’d been distracted—distraught—at the time. 

He wanted to trust the senator. The man was charming, handsome, and seemed to be a good father and husband. Alderaan was known for having anti-Imperial leanings—but the man _was_ a high ranking politician in Palpatine’s Empire. It was hard to know who to trust these days. 

From the look on Bail’s face, he was in exactly the same position. 

* * *

The turbolift made a happy bing as it deposited Leenik and Tryst on the casino level, the sound quickly swallowed by the music, chatter, and ringing of various gaming machines that greeted them as the lift doors slid shut behind them. 

There were considerably more people on the casino level than there had been when they’d first passed through on Hondo’s tour. A couple of fierce games of sabbac were being played at the tables spread out across the floor, and the crowd by the pazaak table had grown thick. 

The honeymooners who were enjoying the casinos tended to be focused more on the game in front of them than each other, so it wasn’t as bad as some of the other floors, to Leenik’s relief. He didn’t know if he could stand crossing another floor covered in couples sucking face. 

“Let’s find us a princess,” Tryst said as he crouched down, looking under the gambling tables. 

“I don’t think we’ll find her under the tables,” Leenik said. 

“Well, I don’t know where else to look. How should I know what a—what? six-year-old?—kid is going to do?” 

“We do have a couple of kids on our ship,” Leenik pointed out. “One of them is about six, isn’t he?” 

“Tamlin!” Tryst snapped his fingers. “We should ask Tamlin if he’s seen a six-year-old brat wandering around.” 

He pulled out his comm. Tamlin picked up after the first bleep-bloop. 

“Hey, Tamlin?”

“Uncle Tryst!”

‘What’s up buddy?”

“Pepper Tup is on the case!” 

“Great, great. Hey, we’re looking for this little kid who went missing, Layla or something. Have you seen a Layla?” 

“The only person here is Paprika.” 

“Who?” 

“Paprika Tup. She’s twenty-three.”

“Paprika. Tup.” Tryst rolled the name around in his mouth. 

“Yeah!” Tamlin’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone, but I think she’s my twin sister.”

“Tamlin,” Tryst said. “Listen to me very carefully. If there’s any chance—any chance at all—that she could be your twin sister then you _cannot_ kiss her.” 

“Ew, Uncle Tryst.” 

“Gross,” Leenik muttered.

“That’s the spirit, buddy. Now give me a call if you see a little Alderaanian brat running around, okay?” He cut the line. 

“That kid’s gonna be a heartbreaker,” Tryst said to himself.

Leenik shrugged. Pepper Tup's love life was really none of his business. 

“Wait a second.” Tryst looked down at the comlink, as though the conversation he’d had with Tamlin had finally registered. “Tamlin doesn’t _have_ a twin sister.” 

“Oh,” Leenik said. “Yeah, but how much do we really know about Pepper Tup?” 

“Well, he’s eighteen, we know that much.” 

“Yeah, so why would his twin be twenty-three?”

“Point.”

“So they’re clearly not twins.”

A sad half-bloop fizzled over the line, as if another call had tried to connect and been cut off. Tryst banged the comm against his thigh but it fell silent. 

“Well, whoever that was, must not have been important. Probably just Bacta telling us not to give anyone our real names, or yelling at us to _remember the mission!”_ Tryst said the last bit in an exaggerated imitation of Bacta’s accent, and Leenik snorted in spite of himself. 

He saw a flash of neon green as a tall, muscular woman rose from her seat at one of the sabacc tables. She was unmistakable—standing a head above the crowd, her cropped hair a bright shock of neon green. The last time he’d seen Whiplash had been on Phindar, when she and the rest of Sneak and Tubaik’s crew were trying to gun them down. Leenik watched as she began to scan the room with a bounty hunter’s eye—assessing threats, escape exists, and if she were lucky, potential targets. 

She hadn’t spotted them—yet. 

“Tryst!”

“What?” 

“Quick! A distraction—kiss me!” 

“What?!” 

Leenik reached out with his prosthetic hand and yanked Tryst toward him. Tryst reacted by throwing his arm out, smacking Leenik right in the snoot. Leenik smacked him back, in pure instinct. 

There was a confused moment of failing arms and uncoordinated blows. 

“Ringist _god,”_ Tryst said. “What are you doing!” 

“Trying to—we needed a cover—there was a bounty hunter—and—I—I was trying to kiss you!” 

“What? Why?” 

“Why? Why? _Why_ didn’t you kiss me back?” 

“Why would I kiss you?” Tryst staggered back a step, as though he couldn’t even stand to be close enough to touch Leenik. 

“Why _wouldn’t_ you kiss me?” 

“I not going to kiss you! I’m trying to respect your boundaries!” 

Tryst didn’t respect anyone’s boundaries. He’d kiss _anyone—_ or worse—given the slightest chance, and not think twice about it. 

But Tryst didn’t want to kiss him. 

“There was a bounty hunter,” Leenik said in a small voice. “I was just—it was just a distraction.” 

“A bounty hunter? Where?” Tryst backed up another step as he scanned the crowd. Whiplash hadn’t spotted them after all. Leenik caught a flash of neon green on the other end of the room as she bent over a dice game. 

“Huh,” Tryst said. “What’s she doing here?” 

There was a nest of snakes in Leenik’s stomach. He had to get out of there. 

“Leenik?” He heard Tryst’s voice trailing after him as he stormed out of the casino room, but Tryst didn’t follow him. 

He’d probably just find some horny honeymooner and—ugh. Leenik didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to punch something. He just wanted—

He wanted to get as far away from Tryst as he could. 

* * *

Bacta and Bail cleared the bow section of Level B—primarily a series of lounges and sunning decks—in short order. All they discovered were honeymooners soaking up the sun and staring into each other’s eyes. Nothing that might interest a small child. 

There didn’t seem to be enough attendants on hand, and more than once Bacta had to pretend not to see an empty drink waved in his direction—but Hondo _had_ said that the ship was understaffed. That’s why they were here in the first place, after all. He just ignored all the snapping.

The stern section of Level B had been converted into a single large luxury bathhouse; thick clouds of steam and a series of screens arranged into privacy rooms obscured the wide bathhouse floor. The perfect place for someone to hide. 

“Gentlebeings! Sirs!” A harried-looking attendant—the only one who appeared to be working this particular floor—rushed up, waving long green fingers in their direction. “No shoes, no shirts in the bathhouse. You need to take them off.” 

As they turned, the attendant stopped, his mouth falling open as he registered the fact the Bail Organa was standing in front of him. 

“Now, I know you’re just doing your job,” Bacta said, leaning in and trying to sound reasonable. “Can’t we make an exception?” 

The attendant straightened, closing his gaping mouth. “I’m sorry, but the rules are firm.” 

Bail raised a hand. “It’s fine. Rules are rules. We don’t want to cause a scene.” 

“Over here,” the attendant said. “Slippers will be provided.” 

They were guided to an open changing room to the side of the entrance and left to change out of their shirt and shoes. Bail looked as reluctant as Bacta felt, as he hung his jacket on a hook in the dressing room and began to remove his shirt. If Tryst were here, he would assume that this was all a gratuitous excuse to get everyone half-naked. 

The Senator was very...fit. Not that Bacta looked or anything. In fact, he glanced away as quickly a possible, but not before he got a glimpse of a man who _hadn't_ spent the entirety of his senatorial career behind a desk. 

Bacta hesitated before he pulled his own shirt over his head. Without his shirt and server’s jacket, his tattoos would be clearly visible. He didn’t think that a senator from Alderaan paid much attention to the wanted lists circling around the underworld, but if he were questioned, later, no one would mistake his description for any other retired clone troopers. 

He should have read up on Alderaan’s extrication policies. With a gusty sigh he took off his shirt and shoes and tucked them into the provided nooks. Turning back around, he braced himself for the expression on Bail’s face when he saw the numbers etched on his arms and image of a Jedi in brilliant color over his chest. 

The numbers on his arms might have been a list of kills, and for all that Bail knew, Bacta had most likely murdered his Jedi commander himself—and yet he looked at Bacta with an expression of profound sadness. 

“I’m sorry for your losses, soldier.” A politician like Bail must have said those very words hundreds of times, but he made them sound warm and sincere. 

Bacta pressed a palm over the tattoo of Sian. His brothers were gone, but there was a chance—a small hope—that he might see her again one day. “Thank you, sir.” There was nothing else he could say. 

When the moment had passed they began their search, tapping politely on the bell at the entrance to each private enclosure before sliding back the screen door to peek inside. The passengers who were enjoying the bathhouse were none too happy to be disturbed, and Bacta ended up witnessing a number of things that were now seared into his mind—he was reasonably sure that a heated tub wasn’t meant for _those_ particular purposes. Tryst would have loved it. Lyn would have been appalled. 

When they reached the final private room—a small sauna—and found it completely empty, Bail sat down on the bench in the middle of the sauna and put his handsome head in his hands. 

“Uh.” Bacta stared at the distraught senator for moment before he sat down next to the man and searched something encouraging to say. “We’ll find her, sir.” 

“I know. I just can’t help but imagine the worst that could happen.” Bail dropped his hands, his face grim. “My wife and I couldn’t have children, you know. We always wanted them, and it seemed like we’d never get the chance… and then Leia came into our lives.” He smiled fondly at the thought of his daughter. “She was a war orphan. We never knew her parents, but I hoped that I could honor them by keeping her happy and safe.” 

“I know how you feel, sir. I have a kid too, and...sometimes I feel like I’ll never find a safe place in the galaxy for him.” 

They shared a quiet, sympathetic moment, two fathers who only wanted the best for their children. 

Bail sighed. “My wife would say that no matter what, we have to have to look toward the future with hope. Leia is our hope. No matter how bad things get under the Empire.” 

Bail spread his hands, chuckling a little. “And being in a place like this…no matter how absurd this day has been, it makes me think of my own little Lelila getting married one day in a traditional Aldreaanian wedding.” He smiled, though his eyes were misty. “That’s my hope for the future. That no matter how grim things get, I can look forward to dancing at her wedding.” 

There were days when Bacta couldn’t imagine any of them surviving the next crisis the universe set in their path. As he sat there with Bail he imagined a future, a future in which Tamlin lived in a galaxy at peace, able to carry his mother’s lightsaber with pride. Bacta didn’t think he’d live long enough to witness it, but he would fight for that future, every day of his life. 

“We’ll find her. I promise you that, Sir.” 

“I know,” Bail said with a smile. “Knowing Leia,” he continued, the expression on his face becoming wry, “she’s probably talked her way onto the bridge and convinced the ship’s pilot into letting her take a turn at the wheel.” 

“We can check there next, if you want, sir.” 

“Thank you, Bacta.” 

Bacta meant every word he’d said. They were going to find that princess, and bring her home safe again. No one should have to worry about their kid like that. He was glad that he didn’t have to worry about Tamlin. Not this time. Lyn would keep him safe. 

* * *

_“It was just like the dame said—”_

“I’m _not_ a dame, I’m Paprika Tup, detective!” 

_“It was like the lady detective said, Pepper Tup thought as he surveyed the crooked captain’s quarters. You can’t even trust a Berchestian monk these days. Everyone has a skeleton in the closet. And there were more hiding spaces in the unscrupulous captain's cabin than in a Corellian freighter. The trouble was—”_

Tamlin sighed, breaking out of character. “There isn’t anything suspicious in here!” 

They’d found plenty of cupboards and hidden drawers—Tamlin had lots of experience finding smuggling compartments on the Mynock—but they didn’t find any evidence that Hondo was a double-timing swinder. They only interesting thing they’d found was a leak in the back of the closet. 

“What about this?” Paprika asked, holding up a black orb. 

“Oh, that’s just a grenade,” Tamlin said. “We’re looking for incriminating evidence.” 

Paprika’s eyes widened. “A grenade?!” 

Tamlin shrugged. “My uncles have those all over our ship.” 

Paprika put the grenade down carefully and looked up at Tamlin, her face glowing with excitement. “Pepper...are your uncles _Rebels?”_

“Well. Yeah,” Tamlin said. They were all Rebels now. They’d put it to a vote and everything. Tamlin got to redecorate the board. He wasn't entirely sure what Rebels were supposed to do—all he knew about being a rebel so far mostly consisted of glitter and star stickers. 

Before he could explain this to Paprika, his comm crackled. “Tam—re you—ere?” 

“Uncle Lyn!” 

“Oh, thank—where are yo—?” 

“We’re investigating Captain Hondo’s cabin in the staff cabins on Level E.” 

“—lin, you need to get out of there! Go up to the top deck! Hurr—” A loud popping crackle, and the line went dead. 

“Paprika," Tamlin said slowly, "I think we need to go…” 

Paprika wasn’t listening. She was staring at the closet on the other side of the room. 

“I think something bad is going to happen,” she whispered. 

Tamlin could feel it too. There was something wrong with the closet. It was changing shape, the wood-paneled door bulging out like it was being been inflated. A loud groaning noise rumbled through the cabin. 

“Run!” Tamlin grabbed Paprika's hand and bolted for the door. 

There was a horrible cracking and splintering sound behind them, and then the sound of water rushing, roaring through the room, moving faster than they could run. 

* * *

The restaurant level was a lot quieter than the casino level. The lights were low and gentle music drifted through the air. The restaurants were filled with couples sharing romantic desserts and staring into each other’s eyes or eyestalks over scoops of iced lamia cream.

Ugh. 

Leenik headed to the nearest bar. “Pink nebula. Heavy on the nebula,” he told the harried droid bartender.

It spun into action, pouring the drink and plunking the glass down in front of Leenik. "Your drink, gentlebeing," it said. Leenik thought it sounded relieved that someone wasn’t snapping at it.

Leenik took a long sip of the pink nebula and set the drink to the side. Sighing, he pulled out his diary and slapped it on the counter. Taking out a stylus, he began to write. 

_Dear Diary,_

_This day just keeps getting worse and worse._

_Something’s wrong with me. I can’t get the thought of kissing Tryst out of my head, and Tryst—Tryst can barely look at me. He’s been acting strange since Roche. I don’t think anyone else has noticed. Well, Bacta and Lyn have said a couple of things to me that I_ didn’t _appreciate about Roche, too, but this is different. Tryst doesn’t get all hung up on_ feelings. 

_Sometimes he gives me these looks like—I don’t know._

_I can't take it anymore—_

“Sweet Goddess of Lemu. Do you have to say _every single word_ out loud?” 

Leenik knew that voice. Turning slowly to his right, Leenik stared at the handsome, gold-furred face scowling at him. 

“Tubaik!” 

“Leenik Geelo,” Tubaik said sourly. “Of the Mynock.” 

Leaning around Tubaik’s other side was a familiar face that looked a lot like another familiar face that Leenik knew.

“Leenik.” Sneak nodded cordially in his direction. 

Surprisingly cordial, considering the last time they’d seen Tubaik and Sneak. 

“Uh, sorry about Phindar,” Leenik said. “I mean, I’m not really sorry we stole your money, but we did kill some of your guys. They were trying to kill us, but—you know.” 

Tubaik growled. 

“It’s okay,” Sneak said, putting a placating hand on his partner’s arm. “We ended up having a long talk after Bhikke. We decided we needed to focus on what’s really important to us: our relationship. So we made it official.” 

Leenik looked back and forth between them. “I don’t follow.” 

“We got married!” Tubaik said. 

Leenik blinked. “Oh hey, congratulations. I didn’t know you guys were an, uh, item.”

“Sometimes you just fall out of a window into someone’s arms,” Sneak said. “It’s that simple.” He leaned in to kiss Tubaik. 

Leenik made a face. They were acting _just_ like all of the _other_ honeymooners on the ship— “Ohhhhh,” Leenik said. It all fell into place. “You’re here on your honeymoon!” 

“Why _else_ would we be on a cut-rate cruise run by Hondo Ohnaka?” Tubaik said, his voice thick with scorn. “Which we _were_ enjoying before _you_ came in here and starting moping over Tryst Valentine. Out loud.” 

_Tryst._

“I can’t help it,” Leenik signed. “He’s just—driving me crazy. He’s always hitting on people, and trying to get them to slap him, and bragging about how much sex he has—which isn’t actually that much, he just _talks_ about it all the time. I tried to kiss him and he… He pushed me away. He couldn’t even look at me. He said he was ‘respecting my boundaries,’ whatever that means.” 

“That doesn’t sound like Tryst Valentine.” Sneak frowned. 

“I know, right?” 

“That sounds a lot like Bacta to me,” Sneak said. “Did it occur to you that Tryst was doing what Bacta told him?” 

“That doesn’t sound like Tryst either,” Leenik said. 

“It sounds like something that someone who cared about you would do,” Sneak said. 

“Does Tryst _know_ that you’re in love with him?” Tubaik asked.

“What? I’m not—I don’t—I just…” 

“That’s what I thought. He probably doesn’t even know what you’re going through. Sometimes you have to spell it out in clear letters. With tiny words.” 

“That won’t work,” Leenik said. “Tryst can’t read.” 

“What we’re saying is that you gotta be straight with him,” Sneak said. “Lay it all out there.” 

“If there’s one thing I know about bounty hunting, it’s that a bounty hunter always follows his heart. Follow your heart, Leenik Geelo.” 

Tubaik’s speech sounded _a lot_ like the one in _Love Under the Suns—_ only that speech hadn’t been about bounty hunters. Leenik knew the speech by heart; it had brought together the Dathomirian Princess and the disgraced Duke of Naboo while they were in exile on Tatooine. It was one of Leenik's favorite sequences in _Love Under the Suns._

If it worked for those two crazy kids, than maybe...

He could try. 

“That’s what we did,” Sneak said, placing his hand on top of Tubaik’s. They kissed again. Leenik made a face. 

“And don’t bother us again,” Tubaik said. “Or I _will_ shoot you.” 

“Now, now, remember what we promised each other,” Sneak said. “This trip isn’t for business, only pleasure.” 

“Ew,” Leenik said. 

“It would give _me_ pleasure,” Tubaik muttered under his breath. 

Sneak gave Tubaik a look. Funny, Leenik thought, Sneak’s Disappointed Look was a lot like Bacta’s. 

“No killing,” Tubaik sighed. “We promised.” 

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t watch your step,” Sneak told Leenik, his voice low and dangerous, just like the Sneak Leenik remembered. He was beginning to remember that Sneak was kind of a jerk. 

Sneak made a sweeping gesture toward the rest of the room, the nasty smile still on his face. 

Leenik looked around. Two-Shoes looked up from a black nebula at the end of the bar. Cyclone and Violent Jay were sitting together at a nearby table, looking into each other’s eyes over a dish of chocolate swirl. Skinny, wearing a red wig so terrible that Leenik nearly went over to give her some wig-buying tips, was sitting at a table near the door. 

“You see, we promised not to kill anyone on our honeymoon, but if we give the word, our crew will happily kill you for us.” 

“Oh,” Leenik said. “So that’s what Whiplash was doing here.” 

“She won’t try to bring you in while we’re on the cruise,” Sneak said. “We were very clear that this is a vacation. But don’t try our patience.” 

“Okay, okay.” Leenik pocketed his diary again and took one last sip of his pink nebula. “Thanks, Guys. I’ll see you around?” 

“Please goddess, no,” Tubaik hissed.

“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t,” Sneak said. 

“Sure, sure. Later!” 

He had to find Tryst. And say... 

Something. 

* * *

Tryst wasn’t on the casino level anymore. He wasn’t in any of the lounges, or the bathhouse. Leenik finally circled back around to the ballroom, where he found Tryst, Bacta, and the rest of the search parties gathered. The rows of seats had been cleared to the side and they stood in the empty space in front of the stage. Tryst sat on the edge of the stage, his legs dangling down the side, an open bottle of wine on his lap. He looked away and took a slug of the bottle as Leenik entered. 

“There you are!” Bacta called, waving him over. He and Bail had been in talking as Leenik walked in. “We’ve been trying to reach you on comms.” 

Queen Breha stood a few paces away, arms crossed, a worried expression etched onto her features. Hondo sat at her feet, head in his hands, looking as if all of his schemes had collapsed at once. Leenik wondered what the queen had said to him. 

“You didn’t find her either,” Bacta said. 

“No, but I did see—”

“I’m getting very concerned,” Bail said to Bacta. “Do you think—” 

Before he could tell Bacta what he thought, the door behind Leenk the door slid open again. 

“Where have you all BEEN?”

Lyn stood in the doorway. She was soaked to the bone, her uniform dark and heavy with water and stained with black streaks of grease. A total loss. Leenik wondered if they could still use it for their post-mission meetings or if they would have to find yet another restaurant to steal from. Her lekku dripped on the carpet. 

“Oh. hey, Lyn,” Leenik said. 

“I’ve been trying to comm—”

“I tried to comm you too!” Bacta said. “I couldn’t get through.” 

“Captain Hondo installed a jammer on the lower decks,” Breha said. She had her hands on her hips, glaring down at the Weequay. “Methis and I found it in the crew quarters.” 

“I simply wanted to ensure the privacy of my guests!” Hondo said. 

“That’s not the only reason,” Lynn said. 

“During a romantic getaway—” Hondo attempted, but the Queen cut him off. 

“Thank you, Captain Ohnaka, that’s enough.” 

“What were you doing on the lower decks, Lyn?” Bacta asked. 

“A crew member told me there was a problem with the engine, so I went to take a look. I tried to comm you—”

“—But comms were blocked," Bacta finished. "Sorry, Lyn, we didn’t know.” 

“Why are you all wet?” Leenik asked. 

“Yeah, Lyn, you’re dripping on the carpet,” Tryst said. 

“I’m all wet because _someone_ put a bad patch over a crack in the engine room and the entire lower levels are flooding!” 

“Wait,” Tryst said. “I don’t know anything about _water_ ships, but a ship can’t float if it’s filled with water, can it?” 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! _The ship is sinking!”_


	3. Chapter 3

The ballroom erupted in a buzz of questions and interjections. 

“How sunk is this ship?” Tryst asked, cutting through the chatter. “Exactly how full of water?”

“The engine room is a loss,” Lyn said. “And the lowest levels."

"Important lower levels?” Tryst pressed.

"They can’t be _that_ important,” Leenik muttered under his breath, but Lyn heard him anyway.

"The engine. Is destroyed.” Lyn said flatly. "The energy generators are still running, but the main engine is out. Didn’t anyone notice that we aren’t moving anymore? _Anyone?_ ” Her questions were answered by blank stares. _“Hondo?_ Why didn’t you know?” 

Hondo lifted his head out of his hands. “Ah. I gave the pilot droid very specific instructions not to interrupt me as long as the Organas were on board. And you know how droids are—very diligent to the letter of the law. Unless you program them otherwise, but no one can ever prove that.” 

“We need to evacuate the ship,” Bail said. “Alert the passengers and get them into the lifepods—” Leenik could see him coming to a revelation as the words came out of his mouth. Bail turned to Hondo, still sitting at his wife’s feet. _“Does_ this ship have lifepods? _Enough_ lifepods?” 

Hondo gaped at him, and then climbed slowly to his feet, clearly stalling for time.

“Senator _Organa,"_ he said, as though the senator had insulted his dear mother. "I am insulted that you think I would put the lives of my paying customers at stake! The ship was certainly _equipped_ with the required set of lifepods—I spoke to the safety engineers myself! But in order to _pay_ the safety inspectors, I _may_ have looked away when a different set engineers came in to—uh—survey the ship—”

Bail waved a hand, turning away. “We can’t rely on the lifepods.” 

One of the bodyguards—Kesnos? Leenik wasn't sure—spoke up. “The security boat is standing by to evacuate the entire Royal family on your word, your majesty, your highness.” 

“I know,” Bail said. “I’m concerned about the rest of the passengers. They’re our responsibility as well. How long will it take rescue ships to arrive from Sanctuary Coast?” 

“It could take some time, your highness.” 

“We still need to find Leia,” Breha said, the strain evident in her voice. 

“Hang on,” Bacta said. He turned back to Lyn. _“Where’s_ Tamlin?” 

Lyn blinked at him, and then looked around the room wildly. 

“I thought he was with you! I left him here during the performance. I told him to find you and stay with you afterwards!” 

“Haven’t seen him,” Tryst said, and Leenik shook his head. 

“Well, where is he?!” Bacta sounded a little hysterical. 

“I don’t know!” Lyn too. 

And then, without any prior warning at all, the wall of flowers on the other side of the stage exploded. 

It was a small, contained explosion. The wall behind the bower collapsed, leaving a dark, gaping hole in the side of the ballroom about the size of Wookie. Dust and petals bloomed out from the blast point. The shockwave of debris from the wall behind the bower settled only as far as the edge of the stage, though the air was filled with drifting orange blossoms. A large tangerine bloom fluttered down onto Leenik’s snoot. 

He heard a small but familiar voice shout in triumph. “And that’s how a grenade works!”

“Leia!” Breha cried as she scrambled up onto the stage and over the rubble toward the two small figures that stood in the dark hollow where a portion of the wall had once been. Drenched and grubby, Tamlin and the princess stood cheerfully in the epicenter of the explosion. 

Breha scooped up her daughter and carried her back over to Bail, waiting at the foot of the stage. Tamlin followed her, climbing over the debris and launching himself off the edge of the stage into Bacta’s arms. 

“Where have you been?” Bacta asked. “Why are you all wet?” 

“Pepper Tup was investigating The Case of the Untrustworthy Sea Captain. Paprika helped too. We discovered a leak and then the grenade—” 

“Where did the grenade come from, Lelila honey?” the Queen asked her daughter as Bail helped the princess out of her wet jacket and wrapped the Queen’s jacket around her. 

“We found it in Mr. Ohnaka’s room.” 

“Ah.” The Queen rose to her feet. She was a petite woman, but when she stood and drew back her shoulders, her presence was so powerful you forgot how small she was. 

“Captain Ohnaka, were you keeping illegal incendiary devices on this ship?” 

“Grenades? What grenades? _Those_ grenades? Psssht—who doesn’t have a few thermal detonators lying around? They are very useful in a surprising number of scenarios.” 

Every member of the Mynock crew nodded their heads in agreement. It was only common sense to have a few explosive devices on hand. 

“But extra points for dramatic entrance, buddy,” Tryst said. 

“Ehhh, six out of ten,” Leenik said. 

“I planned that entrance for extra points!” Tamlin said. “We waited until we heard you say our names, and then I activated the grenade to blow.”

“That’s what we call style,” Tryst said, high-fiving Tamlin. 

“Do I get I ice cream?” 

“We’ll talk about it when we get back to the ship,” Bacta said, sighing. 

The Queen still had Hondo pinned under her impressive glare. “Was that part of your plan, Captain Ohnaka? Take the ship out in an explosion—with the royal family aboard?” 

“Your Majesty!—I would never dream of blowing you up.” To his credit, Hondo looked genuinely horrified. “I did have plans for this ship. Of course, I had plans. Grand plans! Sell shares—so many shares—invest in a costly insurance plan—not with my own money, of course—discover mid-voyage that the ship has an unfortunate flaw that renders it no longer seaworthy and that all the passengers would have to forfeit their tickets—this was the humble scope of Hondo Ohnaka’s plans. 

“But there are plans and there are _plans._ And the ship sinking today was _not_ part of the plan. I would never deliberately bring harm to you or your family. Did I want the publicity? Yes. But any disaster was meant to take place safely within reach of the port!”

“Right now it doesn’t matter who caused this,” Bacta said. “We need to get everyone off the ship.” 

“We are _still_ sinking—” Lyn said. 

“I’ve alerted the security ship,” one the Organa bodyguards said. “They signaled the coast guard, but they said it could take a while for an evacuation ship large enough for all the passengers to arrive.” 

Well, that sounded bad. 

“Does that sound as bad as I think it sounds?” Tryst asked. “As in: this ship might sink with everyone on it before any help arrives?” 

“That’s exactly how it sounds,” Bacta said grimly. 

“Oh, good, because I didn’t really get it until we said it three times.” Sometimes it was hard for Leenik to tell when Tryst was being sarcastic. 

“But Uncle Bacta, it’s going to be okay,” Tamlin said. “Because the Mynock is coming!” 

They all turned to look at Tamlin, who beamed in his sweet Tamlin way. 

“We called the Mynock after we solved the case of the cracking closet! Mr. Sparks and Tony are already on their way! They should be here soon.” 

“You did that, Tamlin?” Bacta asked. “Good job!” 

“I wanted to show Paprika the lizards,” Tamlin said. “And Tony!” 

“Uhhh, I’m not sure that that’s a good idea, Tamlin,” Bacta said. 

“Great,” Tryst said. “We can get the hell off this kriffing nightmare cruise.” 

“Ugh, no kidding,” Leenik agreed.

But Bacta was shaking his head. “We have to use the Mynock to get as many people to safety as we can.” 

“We don’t _have_ to,” Leenik said, but as usual, Bacta ignored that comment. 

“Our ship is on its way,” Bacta explained to the royal family. “It’s a smuggl—" Bacta caught himself, a second too late. _"Cargo_ ship, so there’s plenty of room in the hold to fit passengers, and we recently had it upgraded. It’ll be here faster than anything else we call.”

“That’s good news,” Bail said. “Let's get everyone up on deck. My wife and I will stay and help with the passengers until the evacuation is underway.” 

The Organa bodyguards didn’t look too happy about that last bit. 

“I feel like we’re forgetting something,” Tryst muttered to Leenik as they headed up to the deck. 

“What?” 

“If I remembered, I wouldn’t have forgotten! Just—remind me later to try and remember.” 

“Okay.” 

At an order from the Queen, Hondo pulled out a small pocket datapad and got to work activating the alert system. In a few minutes, an obnoxious automated voice rang through the ship, instructing everyone to head in an orderly fashion to the top deck. 

As the announcement blared over the central comm system on a loop, passengers began to slowly trickle up onto the deck in groups. 

“Is this a drill?” 

“What’s going on?” 

“I was in the middle of a very romantic dinner—this had better not take long.” 

The passengers milled around, a disorganized mass of people who seemed largely unconcerned by the eminent threat of the ship sinking. Leenik didn’t really blame them. Who wanted their honeymoon disrupted? Besides the alarm, the ship didn’t really _appear_ to be sinking. 

“Hey! What’s going on here?” A rough voice cut across the chatter. 

“Is that _Sneak?”_ Tryst asked. “And Tubaik?” 

“Oh yeah,” Leenik said. “They’re here on their honeymoon.” 

“Their _honeymoon?”_ A chorus of confused exclamations erupted from the Mynock crew. 

“I know! Weird, right?” 

“Gentlebeings!” Bail raised his hands and his voice. “Please! If you would listen to me for a moment...”

The passengers began to settle down as Bail's soothing voice washed over them. 

A Bail spoke to the crow, Leenik spotted Sneak and Tubaik slinking away, followed by Whiplash, Cyclone, Skinny Jay, Two-Shoes, Cyclone, Tuam— _Tuam?_ The whole crew, basically.

He thought about mentioning it to Bacta, but it couldn’t have been that important. What were they going to do, sink the ship? 

Barely fifteen minutes had passed before the familiar sight of the Mynock came into view, coasting along above the water. She looked good. The Verpine had done an impressive job. 

“Oh, thank the Force,” Bacta said. 

“Thank Tamlin,” Leenik reminded him. 

“And Neemo,” Lyn said. “He didn’t waste any time.” 

Neemo was getting better at handling the Mynock, and although he obviously didn’t have Tryst’s skill, he was definitely improving. The flying lessons that Tryst had given him—as harrowing as they had been for, well, _everyone_ on the Mynock—had paid off. He maneuvered the ship so that it hovered above the water alongside the Lurve Boat, the Mynock's ramp lowering onto the deck. 

Leenik could see his beautiful boy standing at the top of the ramp, his poison-spiked tail lashing back and forth in excitement. The sound of his cackle-purr was music to Leenik's ears. 

"Tony!" 

There were a few screams from the front of the crowd. The passengers closest to the Mynock tried to back away, only to be hindered by the mass of people behind them. 

"It's safe! he's not going to hurt anyone!" Bacta yelled. 

Tony hunched down, baring his teeth. The crowd pushed further back, a few more startled screams cutting through the frightened babble. 

"Leenik! Call him down off the ship!" 

"That thing is coming out here?" a panicked passenger exclaimed, drawing the attention of others nearby, who also protested in increasingly loud voices. 

"I don't know why everyone's so upset," Leenik said sourly. "He's a good boy." 

"He's a _terrifying_ boy," Tryst said, "and usually that's a good thing. But in this case, not so much. How are we going to get everyone on board without anyone getting bitten an aggressive vornskr? It's like—hey!" Tryst brightened. "This is like that logic problem." 

Lyn looked at him, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. "Logic problem? You know a logic problem?" 

"Yeah, Lyn, I know about _logic._ You have a rancor, a Jawa, and a mudhorn egg in an escape pod. How do you get to the planet without the rancor eating the Jawa and the Jawa eating the mudhorn egg?" 

"What's the solution?" 

"I can't _tell_ you the solution,” Tryst said. “Solving logic problems goes against the Ring." 

"Ah, there it is." 

Leenik knew the solution. "You shoot the rancor, then you have enough food for yourself and the Jawa until you reach the planet." 

Lyn sighed. "That's not the actual solution, Leenik." 

"We _have_ a solution," Bacta said. "Tamlin!” 

At Bacta's shout, Tamlin looked up from where he stood by the queen's side, talking with the princess about whatever little kids talked about. Probably detective stuff. He trotted over, waving up at Tony on the Mynock. 

"Yes, Uncle Bacta?" 

"Can you take care of Tony?"

“Sure!” Tamlin looked back at the princess. "I have to go now!" 

“Wait!” Leia darted away from her mother and ran over to Tamlin. His eyes widened as she kissed him on the cheek. “For luck! Bye!” she shouted and ran back to her father. 

“What did I tell you?” Tryst said. “Kid’s gonna be a heartbreaker.” 

“Yeah,” Bacta said. “She and Tamlin really seemed to get along. He’s always telling us how he wants a few friends his own age.”

“Too bad we’ll never see her again.” Tryst said. “I mean, they’re never letting us back on this planet again, am I right?”

"C'mon, Tony!” they heard Tamlin call as he ran up the ramp. “I have a treat for you in my room." He and Tony disappeared into the ship. 

“Be safe, Tony!" Leenik called after them. "Mama loves you!” He wished that he could go with Tony and lock himself in his room until this adventure was over. There was no way Bacta would allow that, though. 

* * *

Once Tony had been secured on the ship, it was easier for Bacta to convince passengers to board the Mynock. Easier, but not _that_ easy. Most of the honeymooners were still reluctant to leave a ship that appeared to be functioning, even if it was dead in the water. 

A few were happy to go. “I didn’t expect a staged sinking!” Bacta overheard a passenger say to another. “But we were told to expect the unexpected on an Alderaanian Adventure Tour.” 

_Whatever got them moving,_ Bacta thought. 

“They’ve gone all in! Even the actress who played the queen is involved—and they brought the little girl playing the princess back too!” 

“I wonder if she’ll lead the tour on our escape ship?” 

“Do you think dinner will be served after we get back?” 

Slowly, and with much cajoling from Bail and Lynn, and insults and sarcasm from Tryst and Leenik, the passengers began to trickle into the Mynock. 

Bacta was glad Lyn was at his side; he could rely on her level head. Something weird was going on with Tryst and Leenik, but Bacta couldn’t deal with that right now. He overheard Tryst muttering about forgetting something, so maybe that was it. Tryst had forgotten to give Leenik something, or forgotten to say something to Leenik, or—whatever. He didn’t have time for that right now. 

Even with the overhaul, the Mynock wasn't a big ship, and it didn't take long until Bacta decided that it had reached capacity. “Neemo,” he called over his comm, “Close the ramp.” 

As the ramp began to rise, Bacta caught sight of a familiar, flamboyantly dressed figure squeezed in with the other passengers on the Mynock. _Hondo?_

“Hondo!” he shouted. “Where do you think you’re going?!” 

“To dry land, my friend! Hondo does not fancy his chances on a sinking ship!” 

“I thought a captain always went down with his ship!” 

“I have heard that too! A fate fit for a hero! Unfortunately, I am no hero. I am only a simple pirate.” 

“We need you here!” 

“Don’t worry—you’re doing a splendid job, and it will all make an amazing holo one day! Hmm...I should sell the rights when I get back to land.” 

“Hondo!” 

“I’m sure that you can handle everything fine from here, my friend. And truth be told, this is not even my ship.” The pirate waved impudently as the ramp closed and hold doors sealed shut. The remaining passengers watched as the Mynock rose above the cruise ship and disappeared over the horizon. 

By the time the final passengers had been evacuated and everyone was safe on the dock in Sanctuary Bay, Hondo would have slipped away, no doubt never to be seen on Alderaan again. And any information he had about a Jedi—if he even had anything of value at all—had slipped through their hands. Again. 

By now, the Lurve Boat was noticeably lower in the water, the deck beginning to slant underfoot. Bacta could sense the shift in the crowd, the low thrum of discontent, voices growing sharper and tempers fraying. A fresh wave of passengers, who had lagged in responding to the still-droning alarm, quickly replaced the passengers who had already fled, filling out the deck again. 

“Hey!” One of the newly arrived passengers waved a hand above his head to draw attention to himself. “There’s water in the lower decks! Is this ship sinking?” 

“I just remembered!” Tryst yelped. He dashed over to the passenger. “How high has the water risen? What level?” 

“We just left the D deck. I think the E deck is already flooded!” 

“Well, we’re definitely tilted in the water now, that end of the ship could still be accessible…” Tryst muttered to himself. 

“What’s going on?” Leenik asked. 

“Our blasters!” Tryst said. “We left our blasters down there!”

“Kriff,” Bacta muttered. They’d all left their heavy blasters and Leenik’s vibrosword in the staff lockers when they’d changed into their uniforms. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. In all the commotion over the lost princess and the sinking ship—he’d clean forgotten. Well, nothing they could do about it now—

Tryst broke away from the crowd and ran for the stairwell. 

“Tryst, where do you think you’re going?!” Bacta shouted. “Tryst!”

“I’m not leaving Elaine down there!” Tryst yelled over his shoulder as he leaped into the stairwell. 

"Tryst! It's just a blaster, don't—"

Leenik bolted toward the stairwell. 

“Leenik! No! Wait! It’s too dangerous down there now!”

“I can’t let Tryst go!” Leenik shouted back. “He can’t swim!” 

“Kriff,” Bacta spat again. 

He wanted to race after them and drag them both back to where he could keep an eye on them, no matter how much they fought and complained, but he’d taken charge of evacuation and he couldn’t abandon his post now. He just hoped they’d wiggle their way out of whatever trouble they would inevitably find below decks. They usually managed to, one way or another. 

Bacta worked his way through the crowd back over to Bail’s side, at precisely the same time as one of the Organa security guards. Together extricated Bail from a conversation with a very agitated passenger. 

“The security ship is ready to escort your highness back to the dock now,” the guard said, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard by the overexcited passengers. “We have to insist.” 

Bail looked as though he wanted to protest, but he caught his wife’s eye from across the crowd, and sighed. “Thank you, Corrino.” 

The queen had the princess’s hand firmly in her own, her security detail arrayed behind her. “It’s time, Bail,” she said as her husband joined her. “The rescue ships are on their way. Kesnos will give Bacta a comm to contact the rescue team. The evacuation is in good hands."

“Thank you, Bacta.” She touched his arm, her eyes warm. “Now, Leia, let’s go.” 

“But I wanted to see the ship sink!” the princess said as her mother led her to the other side of the ship, away from the crowd, where the security boat was discreetly docked. 

"Thank you, Bacta." Bail clasped his hand. "Perhaps our paths will cross again one day." 

"I doubt it, sir." 

"Good luck with your boy." 

"And you, sir." If he had been Alderaanian, he would have been proud to have Bail Organa as his senator; proud to have the Organas leading his people. 

And then the senator was gone. Bacta watched the small silver security boat followed the Mynock’s path toward land until it disappeared from sight. 

From that point on, keeping the remaining passengers from panicking took up all of Bacta’s attention. The deck was definitely tilted underfoot now, and a few stragglers who finally arrived on deck were wet up to their waists. After conferring with the coast guard over the comm the Organa’s security team had given him, he calculated that the fastest, smallest rescue ship would be there in the next half-hour. It would be just enough to pick up the remaining passengers—he hoped. He hadn’t included the Mynock crew in his calculations. He still had to find Tryst and Leenik, and by then the Mynock would be back for them. He hoped. 

His heart sank as yet another mass of passengers stepped out of the stairwell—passengers he hadn't included in his calculations—until he saw who led the group.

“Sneak! Tubaik!” 

Sneak and Tubaik’s entire crew—or what remained of their crew after Phindar—crowded onto the deck. Armed, surly, and unpredictable. As usual. 

“Come help with the evacuation!” he called. It was worth a try. 

“No money in it for me,” Sneak sniffed. “You’re _soft,_ CT-1776.” 

“A bounty hunter always saves his own skin first,” Tubaik said. 

With a muted roar, every one of the bounty hunters activated jetpacks strapped to their backs. Sneak and Tubaik joined hands as they rose in the air. 

“We were here for pleasure, not business," Tubaik called down, "even though it would have brought me great pleasure to bring you in, Bacta. But I made a promise. Next time, I won’t let pleasure get in the way of business. Watch your back. We’ll be seeing you later.” 

There was a loud bang and a small explosion—and a firework streaked into the air and burst into heart shapes above the ship. _“Sneak and Tubaik 4 Ever”_ seared across the sky in sparkly letters. 

“Two-Shoes! You imbecile!” one of the bounty hunters shouted. “That was supposed to be a surprise at the end of the honeymoon!” 

“It was an accident! My jetpack set them off!” 

The bounty hunters circled around the light display before heading toward land, stray fireworks sputtering in their wake. 

“Tacky,” Lyn sniffed. 

“Yeah, those guys are real jerks,” Bacta said.

“On the bright side, it’s a clear signal for the rescue ships.” 

“Good point.” With the bounty hunters gone, there were considerably fewer passengers to worry about. He’d see this last lot off and then he could search for Leenik and Tryst. 

A cry rose from the deck and every single head turned to scan the horizon. There it was, the silver glint of a rescue ship. At last. 

* * *

Leenik stepped out of the stairwell that opened on to Level E and into water that nearly reached his knees. The overhead lights flickered. Along the hall, a malfunction in the waterlogged system had caused all the doors to jam open and odds and ends that had been washed out of the rooms floated about on the surface of the flood. Small suitcases, shoes, and brightly colored vacation outfits bobbed along the hallway. 

He couldn’t see Tryst. “Tryst!” he shouted, splashing forward. The water wasn’t very deep, but Tryst could have fallen and hit his head; it was possible for anyone to drown even in a few inches of water. “Please don’t be drowned, please don’t be drowned,” he chanted to himself. 

The lights went out, plunging him into darkness for a few terrifying seconds before sputtering on again half-heartedly. 

“Trystan Valentine!” Leenik shouted into the gloom. “You better not be dead!” 

He could feel his boots filling with water and dragging each step as he sloshed down the hallway. 

“Tryst!” It seemed to take forever, fighting the current rushing up the hallway. He came to a place where the hallway opened onto a lounge area. The tables and chairs were now drifting about, getting caught in mini whirlpools as the water flowed rapidly around the enclosed space. 

“Hey. Leenik.”

Tryst stood in a doorway, leaning against the jam. Not drowned. Not even wet above the knees. He’d changed back into his regular clothes and was strapping his and Bacta’s blasters to his belt. Instead of wet and disheveled, he looked insouciant and unfairly handsome.

“You’re not drowned!” 

“Of course I’m not drowned.” Tryst was acting like risking his life just to grab a few old blasters wasn’t a big deal—which was pretty typical Tryst behavior, actually. 

“Why did you have to run off like that?!” 

“I couldn’t let you lose this.” Tryst handed Leenik his vibrosword. “I mean, no big loss if the blasters go missing. They’re replaceable. But I wouldn’t want you to lose your sword.” 

Leenik looked down at his sword and then up at Tryst. There was a pause, and Tryst’s eyebrow rose. 

“Are you going to—" Tryst began. 

“Why wouldn’t you kiss me?” It just burst out of his mouth like novelty firework held too close to a jetpack. 

“What?” Tryst said. “What are you talking about?” 

“I. I. I want youtokissme. I want things to be romantic between us like—like in the books. I know you’re my friend, and we live together anyway—but. I want more.”

Laying it all out like Tubaik had told him made Leenik feel lightheaded and slightly nauseous, like Tryst had hit him with a stun bolt. It felt gross. 

“I don’t know about sex—or paninis—I have a gluten allergy! I just know I want to keep kissing you.”

It wasn’t the sweeping declaration of love that Leenik had hoped for. It wasn’t like the moment the lovers declared their intentions in _Love on an Alien World_ , or _Dusk on an Alien World._ Or in _Intercepting My Heart_ or in _Only a Cantina Girl_ or in—you get the picture. 

“That’s just how I feel, that’s all,” Leenik said. “I wanted you to know.” 

“I did know.” 

Now it was Leenik’s turn to gape at Tryst. “What?”

“I know. I love you too.”

“You do?” 

“Leenik, you’re my family. I love you and I care about you.” 

Leenik’s stomach churned. So this wasn’t what he thought it was. It figured. Here he was, confessing his love, and Tryst didn't misunderstand him. “But that’s not the same as the romance stuff.” 

“No, it’s not,” Tryst said. “I want that stuff too, but I wasn’t sure you were ready for it. So...I gave you some space. I didn’t kiss you because I was trying to respect your boundaries.” 

“What?” That still didn’t sound like Tryst. "My boundaries?"

“Leenik! You’re going through some stuff! We all know it. We’re all worried about you. I was worried that getting into a relationship maybe wasn’t the best thing for you right now—”

“A—a—relationship?” Leenik stuttered. 

“Yeah, a relationship. I thought we might try it, but Bacta said—” 

“But. You actually _want_ a—a romantic relationship with me?”

“Yeah, I do. I mean, you scare me a little bit, but you know that I _like_ that kind of thing. I just want you to be a little more safe—for your sake. If that means backing off, then, yeah, I can handle that. But it’s not what I _want.”_

“I don’t believe you.” Was it possible for a black hole to form in someone’s chest? Because it felt like one was forming in Leenik’s chest at the moment, dark and whirling and threatening to swallow him whole. 

Tryst stopped and stared at Leenik, dropping the arms that had previously been waving about as he talked. “You did hear when I said that I loved you? When I did all that declaration of love stuff that they have in those books Nemo writes?” 

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” 

“Okay. You don’t believe me. Okay. Okay—hang on a moment.” 

Tryst turned away and started splashing toward the hallway that led to the exit. Leenik splashed after him, bewildered. 

Tryst paused at one of the open doors to a cabin, looked around inside, and moved to the next. 

“What are you doing?” 

“In the restaurant you tried to kiss me because you saw a bounty hunter, right?”

That room didn’t have what Tryst was looking for either. 

“Yeah? I don't follow." 

“Ah-ha!” Tryst dived across the room. He grabbed something floating on top of the flood and splashed back over to Leenik. “Hey Leenik, what do you see?” 

Tryst held up a mirror. Long rivulets of water dripped down the glass, blurring the image of his own face staring blankly back at him.

“It’s a mirror.” 

“No! I mean, yeah. Sure. That’s not what I meant. What’s in the mirror?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“What’s in the mirror?” 

Leenik looked harder, but it was just his face. Maybe Tryst had hit his head after all. 

“It’s a bounty hunter!” Tryst said triumphantly. 

“I mean, technically, sure. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?“ 

“Leenik. Look. A bounty hunter.” Tryst’s voice deepened to that low, intimate tone that made a pleasant shiver crawl up Leenik’s spine. “I think we need a distraction.” 

Leenik stared at him. 

“Oh, for—” Tryst dropped the mirror back into the water and yanked Leenik to him by the front of his jumpsuit. 

Kissing Tryst was even better than Leenik remembered. Kissing was kind of weird and wet, which wasn’t something any of his romance novels discussed, but it also made him feel good all over. Better than a romance novel did. 

_“See?”_ Tryst said when they finally broke apart. “I love you and your little bug face.” 

“Hey,” Leenik said weakly, a protest to the name-calling that he didn’t really mean. Were his knees supposed to feel like they’d turned into Rodian clam jelly?

"I want all the kissing and—relationship stuff." Tryst still couldn't help but make a face as he said _relationship stuff_ —but he still said it. He said it like he meant it. “I do have one question, though,” Tryst continued. “If I say, by chance, happen to… runintoAava. Can I still have sex with her?” 

Leenik wasn’t sure who he felt about that. “I’m not sure how I feel about that yet,” he said. 

He liked Aava. Even though she wasn’t always a good person, or a nice person, and whenever she showed up, there was trouble. Leenik knew the relationship that Tryst had with Aava was messy and he wasn’t sure how he felt about being part of that. Or not part of that. Whatever. 

“It’s all right,” Tryst said. “Think about it. Take your time. We’ll work it out.” 

“What if I’m not okay with it? What if I’m never okay with the—sex stuff?” 

“We’ll figure it out. I’m not going to dump you just because of that, Leenik.” 

Tryst seemed to see something in his face, even though Leenik wasn’t sure exactly what his face was doing, let alone what he was _feeling._ He just knew that he was feeling _a lot_ right now. 

“Leenik. I’m not going to abandon you. I’m not going anywhere. Except—off of this ship. And soon. Really soon. Like now.” 

“Oh. Right.” Leenik hadn’t even noticed that the flood now reached up to his waist. Murky water sloshed against the bottom of his uniform jacket. The overhead lights had failed, and the room was drenched in the sickly orange glow of the emergency lights. 

“Tryst! We gotta get out of here! You can’t swim!” 

“I can swim! Who told you I couldn’t swim?!” 

Leenik looked into his— _boyfriend?_ just thinking the word gave him a thrill—boyfriend’s wide, completely untrustworthy eyes. “Is this like reading? Can you swim as well as you read?” 

“No!” Tryst exclaimed. “I can read! And I can totally swim! It’s a sex thing.”

“First of all, swimming is not a sex thing. Second, is it the sort of thing where you can only swim if you’re having sex, like you can only speak Mon Cal if you’re drunk?” 

“I’ll have you know that my inebriated Mon Cal is _excellent._ Everyone says so.” 

“I’m not having sex with you just so you can swim.” 

“I know that,” Tryst said. “I’m not expecting sex from you at all, Leenik—I _know_ you, and I know you don’t want that—”

This time Leenik pulled Tryst in, kissing him the way he’d only read about in books. The second kiss was even better than the first. 

Tryst broke the kiss first. “Leenik?” His hands dug painfully into Leenik’s shoulders and he looked around wildly at the water surging around them. “I _can_ swim, but I don’t have gills. Trust me, I’ve checked. If we don’t get out of here soon, I _am_ going to drown.” 

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, let’s—” 

Something big bumped into Leenik’s back. He turned and saw a large crate, half floating, half-submerged in the water. He elbowed it away and turned back to Tryst. 

Tryst was looking at the crate behind him, his expression of fear replaced by one of delight. “Oh, we’re definitely taking that with us.” 

* * *

The ship lurched underfoot, water rushing up the end that was already disappearing under the surface. 

“Uncle Bacta!” Tamlin screamed from the Mynock’s ramp as it hovered above the edge of the sinking ship. “You have to jump _now!”_

“Jump!” Lyn shouted as she crouched beside Tamlin, one arm wrapped around him and the other holding fast to the ship. 

_But Tryst and Leenik—_

Bacta had managed to get every last passenger on the rescue ship before the Lurve Boat reached its final death throes. The Mynock had returned just as the rescue ship was leaving—and now there was no time left to search for Tryst and Leenik. They were trapped somewhere, under the water—

The deck suddenly slanted sideways, tipping over as it sank. Bacta barely managed to grab a handrail and used it to launch himself into the air, throwing himself toward the Mynock. Hands reached down to pull him aboard. The Mynock rose a few meters above the dark shape of the Lurve Boat disappearing into the deep. 

_Leenik and Tryst—where were Leenik and Tryst?_ Bacta frantically scanned the churning waters. 

“Over there!” Tamlin pointed down to a lump of flotsam. It was Tryst and Leenik, clinging to the edge of a large crate that bobbed on top of the water. 

Tryst waved an arm. “Lower down the winch!” he shouted up. 

Bacta and Lyn rushed to activate the cargo winch in the hold. As the Mynock hovered above the water, the crane swung down toward Tryst and Leenik. 

Tryst and Leenik attached the crate to the winch and climbed on top of it as the winch slowly lifted them into the Mynock’s hold. 

Tryst shook himself like a ronto. “Whew! Swimming is never as sexy as I think it’s going to be.”

“What’s this?” Lyn asked, peering at the crate. She lifted the edge of a sodden label that was peeling away from the side. It was one of the crates of discount wine that had been in the storeroom that had been their changing room. 

“Honeymoon libations!” Tryst crowed.

“Is _this_ what you went back for?!” Bacta overreacted, as usual. 

“No, of course not. First, I got our guns back— _you’re welcome._ But since we’re obviously not getting paid today, and we’re never going to see Hondo again, I figured, why not?” 

“We could sell the wine, I guess,” Bacta said. 

“Yeah. Sell it,” Tryst drawled. “Sure.” 

“Let’s get cleaned up first,” Lyn said, reasonable as ever. “And then we can debrief.”

* * *

Tryst dragged a box of wine out of the crate and up into the kitchen where the crew of the Mynock had gathered after they’d changed out of their wet clothes. Bacta draped warming blankets over everyone and groused about the potential threat of hypothermia. Tamlin insisted on hot chocolate since he wasn't allowed any of the wine. 

The ship hummed as it moved steadily through hyperspace. They’d blasted off of Alderaan before getting clearance to leave, but they all wanted to put some space between themselves and whatever police operation was bound to arrive to investigate Hondo and the sinking of the Lurve Boat. 

“Well,” Tryst said, popping the top off of the box of wine. “We might as well crack into this Cham-pag-nya.” 

“It’s not Champagne,” Lynn said. 

“Wine. Whatever. What are you having, red or white?” 

“Tryst! You can’t drink all of the merchandise!” Bacta cried. “We could sell that!” 

“Why not?” 

“We don’t have a buyer,” Leenik pointed out, helpfully.

“Can’t we set it aside, and let it get more valuable over time?” Bacta asked, like someone trying to sound like he could guess the right facts about wine, as if he were some sort of wine monger.

“What are you, some sort of wine monger?” Tryst asked. “This is dime-a-dozen Alderaanian Swillwater. _Hondo_ picked it out. What’s it going to do, appreciate in value?” 

“That’s what I said!” Bacta shouted, his voice going up in pitch. 

“Uh. Yeah. Whatever,” Tryst said. 

“It is very cheap wine,” Lynn said. “We probably wouldn’t get much for it.” 

_“Right?_ What are you having?” 

“Well,” Bacta said. “I am going to take the two crates that are _my_ share and I’m going to put them aside to _appreciate in value.”_

“Okay, sure, _dad,”_ Tryst said, rolling his eyes. 

“Ooh, I like this vintage,” Lynn said. 

“I’m taking my share of the crate and hiding it in my _secret_ smuggling compartment,” Bacta announced loudly to the room at large, heading for the hold. 

“We’ll find them,” Leenik said. 

Tryst had bought a set of wine glasses on Ilo that were nearly as big as a bottle of wine, and he ran through half the box filling all the glasses. 

“For you, Lyn. And Nemo.” He put Bacta’s glass to the side and grabbed the last two. Tryst slid into the seat next to Leenik, his body warm along Leenik's side, and handed him a glass that was dangerously full before taking a large gulp out of his own. 

“Now. Before you have too many glasses of wine—” Bacta returned, brandishing the clipboard. 

“Good,” Lyn said, eyeing Tryst and Leenik. “I have a few mysteries to address.” 

Leenik had that sinking feeling that he always got these days whenever they had a debrief, and Bacta and Lyn wanted him to talk him into facing all the things that he worked so hard to avoid thinking about too closely. No one had even died on this mission! He didn’t want to talk—he _couldn't_ talk—about his _feelings._

Then he felt Tryst take his hand, and that made all the difference. 

  
  


_Dear Diary,_

_Have you ever gotten lost in someone’s eyes before? Even if they don’t have any stars in them? Even if they’re just a nice, warm brown?_

_It’s wonderful, Diary._

_Tryst is still—well,_ Tryst. _He still calls me a bug face and makes idiotic jokes about Besalisk four-handers and the Woodoo hoodoo._ _I don’t think he even knows what that IS, Diary._

_I still don’t want to have sex with him. He says that he’s okay with that, but we’re still working all of that out._

_I mean, I_ say _we’re working it out, but “working it out” mostly that seems to mean a lot of kissing and holding hands and staring into each other's eyes and—_

_Never mind, Diary. You know what I mean._

_Mwah—_

_Leenik_

_S.W.A.K._

  
  



End file.
